


Flu Season

by rocksalt_rifle (trismegistus)



Series: Supernatural [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-26
Updated: 2009-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/rocksalt_rifle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flu season hits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flu Season

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |    
[fic](http://rocksalt-rifle.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [supernatural](http://rocksalt-rifle.livejournal.com/tag/supernatural)  
  
---|---  
  
"Oh for fuck's sake," Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Castiel's eyes were screwed tightly shut, and the thermometer was stuck out of his mouth at a strange angle. "I don't even know how the hell angels manage to get sick. If you've got the fucking swine flu you're on your own, I ain't dealing with no Ms Piggy pandemic."

"The only way to tell for sure would be to take him to the emergency room," Sam said from the other bed, where he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the queen-sized mattress. The room this time around was even tinier than usual, and while it did have a desk tucked in one corner, there wasn't a single power outlet within a manageable distance, never-mind a wireless signal in that corner of the room.

"That'll end well," Dean tugged the thermometer out of Castiel's mouth and held it up to the light, frowning at it. "Where the hell did you get this thing, the 1960's?"

Sam finally looked up from his computer. "Do you really need me to read the thermometer for you, Dean?"

"If you get off that bed so help me this thing is going right up your ass," Dean grumbled, setting it down on the bedside table. "Cas, m'man, you've officially got a fever."

Castiel cracked open his eyes and stared at Dean as intensely as he could manage. "Dean," he croaked. "We don't have time to waste here."

"Yeah," Dean said, standing up. "We don't, but we also don't want you ralphing all over the back seat of my car, because I am not scrubbing any more bodily fluids out of that upholstery."

"Don't look at me," Sam said without looking up from his laptop. "You better not be looking at me, last I checked it was YOUR bodily fluids that was all over the back seat of the car-"

"ANYWAY," Dean said. "You are staying put until the fever breaks, and that's that." He looked over at Sam. "Any luck finding the source of that disturbance?"

"No, no luck at all." Sam closed the lid of his laptop and sighed. "Nothing at all in the area, the trail's gone cold. We might as well just stick around here until something else crosses our path."

"Well, we're off everything's grid currently, so there's not any danger in sticking around a few days. And if anyone could track Cas I imagine Zachariah would have already been down our throats." Dean shrugged loosely. "I still don't get how he manage to catch sick in the first place."

Sam looked over at Cas. "He's started consuming," he said. "You've got him drinking beer, at the very least, I guess it gets the body working and if the body is working, it can get sick."

"I guess. Angel physiology wasn't exactly covered in the course of high school science." Dean frowned and rubbed his nose with his hand. "Is it, like, really friggin' warm in here, or is it just me?"

*

"You keep that thermometer away from me," Dean said as Sam advanced on him. "I watched you, you haven't disinfected it, keep it the hell away from me-"

"I know for a fact you've put your mouth worse places-"

"I don't even care that thing was just in HIS mouth and he is DEFINITELY sick, I'm not sick, it's just-" Dean took a step back and the leg he was supporting his weight on buckled. He caught himself on the edge of the entertainment center and skipped back, but the room was very small and Sam caught him by the shoulder and flipped him onto the bed. Before Dean could scramble to his feet Sam had him pinned down with one hand. Dean flailed his arms and legs feebly.

"Now we can do this the easy way," Sam said, the thermometer in one hand. "Or the hard way."

"There is no way in hell," Dean said. "That I'm going to make this easy for you."

"Fair enough," Sam said, climbing onto the bed and straddling Dean's chest. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Wh-what the hell are you doing!?" Dean yelped, and then Sam pinched his nose shut and Dean had to open his mouth to breathe and Sam jammed the thermometer in his mouth. Dean glowered at Sam and Sam smirked triumphantly. After the correct amount of time Sam retrieved the thermometer and got off of Dean, who sat up an scowled at Sam. "I'm not a baby," he said.

"Then you shouldn't act like one," Sam said. "Jeez, Dean, you've got a fever too. Bed rest, now."

"I'm fine," Dean insisted. "The room isn't moving anymore, so I'm fine."

Sam gave Dean a disbelieving look. "And you were the one driving us HERE, how long have you been sick?"

"Doesn't matter," Dean said stubbornly. "I'm fine, besides we gotta go get medicine for that goofball over there."

"*I* will go get medicine," Sam said. "Under the covers, Dean. Now."

Dean opened his mouth to retort again. "I don't feel very good," Castiel said suddenly, from the other bed.

Sam and Dean both looked over at the same time and Castiel struggled to sit up, and then leaned over the side of the bed and proceeded to vomit over the side. "...dammit, Cas," Sam groaned. He looked over and Dean had wriggled himself under the covers.

"I'm sick," Dean whimpered. "I can't clean it up, I'm soooo sick-"

Sam sighed, and went to get some towels.


End file.
